


Life Exhibit

by writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom



Category: Original Work
Genre: And the main character is a bit of a weirdo, Asexual Character, Christian Character, Help, Insomniac Character, Many metaphors, Muslim Character, Psychological, So there are crimes, There Is Drama, There is only one point of view, characters might have more issues and there might be a bit of abuse as the story goes on, i don't know how to tag, most of the religion isn't focused on, neither are the sexual orientation of these people, philosophical, the detective club might be slightly inspired by Bungou Stray Dogs, there is no good guy or bad guy, this author is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-14 12:59:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14770088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom/pseuds/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom
Summary: There are many metaphors that can depict life.Currently she liked to think of life as an art exhibit.Every painting depicts an event.Galleries happen whenever people have an personal effect on each other.Humans, she thinks, are simply there to admire the artwork that is painted for them personally.





	1. Joining A Club

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many things I should be working on but I keep having new ideas and this time it was original sooo...
> 
> I had to post this.
> 
> There isn't much effort put into it, and i tried to make it realistic as possible but also??
> 
> the main character is weird and kind of confuses other characters on how they should react.
> 
> You will get what I mean when you read it.

There were several metaphors you can come up with during your lifetime. You never stick with one metaphor, because anything consistent soon loses its feeling, just like historical events do after a few generations or so. 

Currently, she liked to compare life to an art exhibit. 

An extremely long gallery that you were simply there to appreciate, an interactive museum, and wether or not you will go to the next aisle is entirely up to you. 

That was the only thing anyone had control over perhaps, prolonging the inevitable. Or stepping backwards to see that painting yet another time. 

Every people have their own art exhibit, she believed. 

‘Come to think of it, to host a gallery means having several artists work in it, so maybe an art exhibit is constant until the day you die, and a gallery happens whenever you interact with other people-‘

“Selin? What are you thinking about?”

Her classmate, who had decided they were familiar with each other enough to be more then just acquaintances that were in the same class, decided to interrupt her thoughts. 

She could shrug, answer with silence, but she wasn’t one to take no. As someone who was simply admiring the art - while internally waiting for it all to end already because she was wearing high heeled shoes - she knew how everyone worked.

So she decided to be weird about it, just so the people around her would let her go back to her waiting.

“This is a very long gallery.” She says.

Her classmate blinks.

Of course she would. They were sitting in a classroom after all.

“…………………..kay I’m just gonna go……”

Predictable.

——————

Time is too slow.

She wants to get to the next aisle faster. Pass through all of them until she reached the exit and finally took her leave.

She sees other people looking at paintings in their own part of the gallery. Some in awe, some in sympathy, some in anguish. The paintings are powerful events after all.

Another interesting thing she noticed about people was that most of them always seemed to be interested in other peoples paintings rather than their own.

Perhaps it’s because the process behind it is a mystery, and mysteries are interesting. Or perhaps it’s because they tire of their own, it’s boring, it’s repetitive and constantly there. 

They are stuck in one event, and since they can’t move on from it they peek at other peoples paintings.

She looks at her own painting. Tragic. But she is not impressed, nor does she feel any sympathy for herself.

So she moves on, easily leaving it behind for someone else to gawk at.

Or not. Her paintings were never interesting enough after all.

But she didn’t care.

———————

It was early morning when she realized she was wrong.

Some people found her life interesting.

But did she care? 

No.

Honestly, she was content with only sharing a gallery with her family’s portraits. 

Art exhibits are personal, no matter how much other people don’t seem to understand that. 

Other people carelessly share them, like it’s all some joke. Like their life was a joke that could be shared with a crowd. 

But as she said previously before she didn’t care what others did with their life, so long as they didn’t form a gallery with her.

‘I may be overusing that metaphor.’

“Selin are you listening to what I’m saying?” The girl in front of her had her hands at her hips. She was looking at her with a condescending look that would have made her react, if she still had a care left in her.

Really, this girl must have embarrassed herself so many times in her life if she was acting so snobbish.

Oh well, time to be polite anyways.

Polite in an honest way.

“No. Whatever you were saying it did not interest me enough to listen.” 

There. Polite.

The girl looked shocked. Who was she again? Bah, whatever.

“If you have nothing left to say anymore would you get out of my way? This desk is heavy.” 

She was actually pretty resilient when it came to carrying stuff. But she wanted to be done with this already.

“Dammit! I’m asking you to join our club!”

A club?

“You should be honored that you get the privilege of me asking you to personally-“

“No.”

This time she forced her way pass the girl and out the door with the desk, not bothering to stop or listen to the indignant shrieking the girl starts.

Sigh.

“Listen! As much as I don’t want to deal with someone as expressionless as you, neither of us have a choice in the matter! You have to join our club or the president will have my head!-“ 

“Excuse me, what is going on here?”

Ah. A teacher.

“I’m asking her to join our club!”

“It seems like you’re trying to force her to join rather than ask.”

’Trying’ being the key word.

“B-But our Detective Club needs one more member and-“

‘Detective Club’? What is this, elementary?

“And our president specifically asked for her!”

“Hmm…….”

She physically felt the atmosphere change, she could see something within the teachers mind being changed.

Ah.

So it’s inevitable.

“Well, Miss Fatma, I notice you never interact with your classmates. Perhaps joining a club might prove beneficial for you.”

Cliche.

So damn cliche it makes her cringe and makes her want to hurl.

“I have a condition.”

She dropped the desk and turned towards both teacher and whats-her-name with a blank stare.

“She carries the desk to class 10-B instead.”

Selin felt satisfaction of the other girl blanching.

“B-But that’s three stories up-“

“I have tolerated you enough. If you want me to have no choice but to tolerate your existence further you will carry this desk to 10-B.”

This was daily routine for Selin, who cleaned her apartment and needed to move around furniture in order to do that.

…perhaps it’s unusual for a teenager to be living on her own but hey, decisions were made and she wanted to live her own life.

——————

The only thing that ever made Selin feel anything would be the words and actions of her family.

She would delightedly showcase the events in her life for them, and would be even more delighted when they are interested.

When she has a choice, she does her best to make a painting that will make them proud, that will interest them.

It’s because of her family she knows the dangers of being too dependent. 

No, they didn’t do anything to her. 

But they do put thoughts in her head that she drones on and on about until she think of something entirely different, she always thinks of different possibilities, and always envisions different scenarios in different timelines.

Really, it’s because she always thinks that she is aware there isn’t really a point in existence.

But it’s also because she thinks so much that she is aware that there isn’t really anything depressing about that. 

She never dares to think of herself above others, despite what you dear readers might have understood, she is aware she is human like anybody else.

She loves her mothers hugs, groans at her fathers jokes, gets jealous of her brother, get angry when she feels pain, she is aware she can be pathetic and hypocritical sometimes, she cries at the death of anyone.

It’s just that she is aware there isn’t a point in most of the things they do, and she has…well… obviously issues about caring.

….I will get to the point about our character Selin Fatma.

She is made of instincts, not emotions… she would show motherly affection to her classmates at important times, but will feel nothing if the classmate decides she doesn’t want to spend time with her. She is like a wolf that will form a bond with someone, but without emotions in it.

Same reason as to why she is the most expressive with her family. A family is like pack in a sense. But a main pack. A pack with stronger bonds then friendship, course that depends on what kind of family we are talking about, but the point is that Selin knows her family best, therefore her instincts react more strongly to them.

Forming a strong bond outside of family is a thing she was never able to do.

Feeling sad because someone outside of family decided she was too dull to hang out with is a foreign concept for her.

Feeling sad because a cat scratched and hissed at her instead of accepting her affection is a foreign concept.

Feeling angry because of someones(outside of family) opinion of her is a foreign concept.

She is the neutral party at anything that concerns anyone or herself.

Annoyance, though, is not foreign.

She does not enjoy it when people make her do pointless things. She could be spending that time doing more productive stuff.

Joining a club is a waste of time and pointless. 

Hence why she is rather annoyed with the young man in front of her. 

“Thank you for joining our club Selin.” 

She wonders briefly if he thinks he is being suave, smiling like that.

“Thank you for forcing me to waste my time.” She replies in a neutral tone of voice.

Like said before, somewhere in that word vomit, she knows how people can use whatever they get from you against you.

That includes emotions.

The male in front of him dramatically winces, puts a hand on his heart and says in a forcefully pained sounding noise “Oh you wound me! We haven’t even gotten to know each other properly yet and you’re already a heartbreaker!”

Immediately he is slapped on the back of his head.

“Sorry for our idiot of a president. Thank you for inconveniencing yourself to join our club.”

Hm. She can see a long history stretching out between the two.

“So you really did join us, huh?” 

Ah. It’s whats-her-name.

“I can’t really tell if you mean it with that statue face of yours.”

“There is a spot on your face.”

As always the things that come out of her mouth are uninteresting, and anything else about her is more attention worthy. 

“H-Huh where?” 

Selin points to the corner of her lips. 

“Your lipstick is smeared.”

“Why didn’t anyone say anything?!” She immediately attempted to wipe away the smear at the corner of her lip.

Attention easily diverted.

She turns her attention back to the glasses boy who is looking at her with astonishment.

“As a Detective Club, I am going to guess that you wait for cases to come for you.”

“That is correct. So far we only had two cases though.”

The glasses boy rubs the back of his head, slightly messing up his neatly tamed dark hair.

His expression show nervousness rather than bashfulness.

She remembers him. She knows that he knows her, no matter how much he is acting like this is all a new encounter.

But she doesn’t care enough.

If he wanted to pretend she was the lone wolf he never met before, sure.

If he wanted to have a do over in their acquaintanceship, then he can try.

He could succeed and he couldn’t succeed in being more than a colleague.

Either way she doubts that she will care.


	2. Tea, Art and Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Selin's weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to start to at least try focusing on the other stories but no promises there.
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading this.

It was a Sunday morning, 

Well, it was morning to her at least. She woke up in ungodly hours to do her morning prayer and than made herself tea. 

She scooped the dried leaves from her home Turkey carefully into the top kettle, putting water on the bottom, bigger one. 

On the first week of moving she had a habit of making too much tea, due to the fact that her family consisted of tea lovers and had relatives come over at least once a week.

They sometimes shared tea with neighbors as well.

Friendly people.

Within the first week of moving into the apartment she had been known as the ’Tea-girl’.

So whenever she made tea it was never too much anymore.

By the time the clock strikes six she is drinking her second tea and getting out another set in preparation.

Right on cue her door bell rings and she stands up from the chair of the small table she has and makes her way towards the door in her admittedly small apartment.

Sam, short for Samuel, stands at the doorway. He was her next door neighbor, and was an insomniac.

“Hey Sal.” he greets her, dark bags hanging under his eyes and still in a bed hair state. 

“Good morning Sam. I have tea ready.” She moves back inside, letting him come in and close the door behind him.

Their first meeting happened when Selin had been leaning against her small balcony rails, and he happened to be coming back late from work.   
——  
She had greeted him out of habit, because back in Turkey neighbors, people happening to pass bye, children and elderly regularly greeted each other with either a smile, a ‘İyi Akşamlar’, a ‘Günaydın’, a ‘iyi Günler’, a ‘Kolay gelsin’(due to respect for those who work), and it didn’t even matter if the other was a stranger or a foreigner. 

You are human, I acknowledge your existence and hope you have a nice day. 

Sam fumbled for a moment and had said “Um, good evening, isn’t it a bit early for you to be up?…”

“I was doing my morning prayers.” 

“Oh.” 

Sam clearly didn’t exactly understand what her morning prayers consisted of, but that was fine. 

A few days after their first greeting, Sam stops by her apartment having forgotten his keys inside.

It doesn’t take much to convince Selin to let him in and share tea with him, despite the odd hour.

——

As always they sat together, drinking tea. Two neighbors having a calm moment for themselves.

“… Say Sal, what grade are you in now?” Sam asked abruptly, scratching the light stubbles that were appearing under his chin.

“9-A.” 

“Huh.” He shifts in his seat a little. “You’re younger than I thought.”

This is the first time they had spoken the most outside of pleasantries. 

“I am often told so.” She replies sipping her tea. Her voice expressionless like always.

Despite the time they spend together, they couldn’t be called anymore than neighbors who pass by each other occasionally. 

Most of her neighbors like her for her tea, and like a listening ear. 

Out of all of them Sam may be the only one who is aware she doesn’t see any of them as her friends. 

They were simply her neighbors and she was a good host who has too much black tea from Rize to spare.

"....She would have been your age by now, if she had had a chance." 

Selin sipped her tea calmly, closing her eyes.

She imagined Sam coming over with a girl her age, a girl who is solemn, a girl who is energetic, a girl who is calm... or she might have been just like her.

If she had had a chance.

Despite it all the universe doesn't waver, time moves on, there is always someone there, and new events come over constantly.

Despite it all, everything is as it should be.

Despite it all, she can't imagine this moment as anything else. 

And she doesn't try.

—————

When the clock hit 9:00 A.M. Sam had already gone back to his apartment and had left for work and Selin had started on a portrait in the other room of her small apartment. 

She wanted to be an artist someday.

Not because it was her passion, but mostly because it was something she was good at.

If she had a choice in matters she would have been fine with wasting away.

She sketches out the interior design of the Detective Club's clubroom first, focusing on the details of the cupboard that hoards tea and biscuits, along with mugs.

Beneath the cupboard is a table that has an electronic kettle beneath it, something that she had made thorough use of on the first day.

——  
“How can someone drink so much tea?” 

“My whole family are avid tea drinkers.”

“Ah, alright…Is it a Muslim thing?”

“No. It’s simply a habit that runs through the family.”

“…But the amount of tea you drink is still disgusting-“

“If you want to have tea so much you can just get to the point instead of trying to be offending as much as possible.”

Anger flared momentarily in her, making her sick to her stomach. Then was snuffed out seconds later, not because she wanted to do so, but because her mind doesn’t allow the things it sees as pointless to last long. Basically she doesn’t have a problem with emotions, nor does she sees them as weak, but they don’t come to her as easily as it does with other people.

She used to think about wether or not she should get that checked out.

Elizabeth splutters, indignant for being interrupted.

Minutes later she is drinking tea, sulking while James chuckles in the background and Jeremy continues reading his book and Selin continues drinking her tea while staring off into space.

——

She proceeds on sketching out the table they sit in, and then works on the window, making sure to not forget the angle and the perspective before deciding on the positions of her colleagues. 

The position that James often takes is on the one wheelchair the clubroom has, usually leaning back and spinning around with it with his legs kicked out of boredom. 

James constantly has a fake smirk on his face. He was a young man full of deception and lies, something that she was able to tell in the one week she had spent time together with no choice in the matter.

He was smart. Likes to observe other people and make deductions about their origins, their personalities, where they are coming from and where they are headed to, their plans. He never tells his deductions regarding his club mates, she dully noted. 

She draws out a brunette in his properly fitted school uniform, near towards the unseen door of the clubroom sitting in his wheelchair backwards, facing the table.

He has a smirk on his face, gaze full of knowledge as he looks towards occupants on the table. She doesn’t forget to put the mole that is on his cheek, otherwise his face is clear. 

The next person she proceeds to draw is Jeremy, with his glasses and stiff posture. Despite the fact that he looked serious he had a sweet tooth and most of the sweets they have are for him. Can’t drink tea or coffee without milk or sugar in it. 

He had intelligence as well, even so. He was more of an assistant than a detective though. If James were Sherlock, Jeremy would have been his Watson. 

Like James, he wore masks as well. Selin knew that he would try to get close with her at times, making attempts and conversation and hiding his frustrations even if his attempts succeed. Often times he chose to ignore his problems.

She draws him sitting at the table, his back to the window. She knows that if she drew out a sniper that has their gun pointed towards him outside the window, it would perfectly depict his ignorance. But she didn’t care enough to call out other peoples faults like that.

So she settles for drawing him with one hand holding his favorite novel, and the other reaching for one of the biscuits that is in the middle of the table. 

His face looks like he is already munching on a biscuit. 

It was time for Elizabeth, who perfectly depicted arrogance. She was from a rich family and always placed herself above others. She was also able to get a read on peoples emotions, their thoughts. Probably one of the reasons why she was qualified for the club. 

And one of the reasons why she is cross with her particularly. 

——

“I will be honest with you here, I hate you.”

Selin looks at her with her usual blank stare. James and Jeremy had left, leaving the two girls alone. ‘Lets let the girls have their girl time Jeremy!’.

He had probably predicted this would happen. She had as well. 

“And I know you don’t care about that, because you don’t care about anything.” Elizabeth continues, her expression serious as always.

“But it still frustrates me how you act like you’re above others.

Ha.

She simply didn’t see a point, while others fought on to find a point in life, something that you don’t need to live.

But she doesn’t bother explaining this, opting to see if Elizabeth has anything else to say.

“So I, Elizabeth Hayes, promise that by the end of this year you will be overflowing with emotions and we will be your friends!”

“…That is extremely dramatic and cliche. How are you not embarrassed?”

Elizabeth fumes in anger while jabbing a finger at her.

“Shut up! You better recognize how serious I am being here!”

“I am aware. Wether or not you will succeed I do not know. Best of luck to you I guess.” 

Selin ignores the other females spluttering as she focuses on a thought.

Her role as an observer is forcefully being changed.

——

She draws her looking disgusted at Jeremy while holding her tea in a lady like manner, her pinkie sticking out as she hold it close to her mouth. 

Her height was shorter than hers. Something she politely doesn’t point out. Her blond hair is tied up in a ponytail. 

She stills sketching and stretches back. Her back ached and her hand started to hurt. 

She noticed that she was hungry as her stomach rumbled. 

Aah, perhaps one day she could be so invested in drawing something that she could die from exhaustion and hunger? 

A quick exit from life that isn’t suicide. 

Aaah, what a way to go.

She was about to get her acrylic paints when her phone started to ring.

This breaks her concentration immensely, because this means that her brother is taking his time from work to call her, or her parents were doing so. 

Either way it’s more important than whatever thoughts concerning the Detective club and their portrait she’s working on are. 

She picks up the phone, feeling the familiar hum of the bond in her heart that screams ‘family’. 

“Hello?”

“Selin, dear sister of mine, how is your days? Do you miss me? Are you alright? You haven’t met strange men or women have you-“

“Fatih, dear brother of mine, I am fine. Also I see that you’re English has improved.”

“Of course! It’s all because you decided to move to America! In such a young age too! Did you really think I would leave you alone?”

She let out a huff.

“Let me have my independence please.”

“But I miss you~”

“With how whiney you are being right now it is hard to imagine you as a hardworking business man.”

“It’s because they keep making me work too hard! I don’t get to call you as many times as I want to and get to know what you’re doing! I only have a 10 minute break right now! It’s not enough!”

She lets a smile play on her lips.

“I also called because I know you would forget to eat!”

“I have such a great brother, investing his time to fret over his little sister.”

“You have the best brother!”

And the talk continued on, occasional sibling bantering and talks about how their days were, ‘What kind of friends did you made?’, ‘Did you meet new people?’.

Time goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I wasn't being too insensitive in this chapter. 
> 
> I am going to try continuing the other stories now. 
> 
> I make no promises as to when I will post something, you never know what might happen and I am all too familiar with the feeling of self hatred or disappointment towards other when promises can't be met. 
> 
> Though I get emotional over the littlest thing unlike my character so that may just be me.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading bye!

**Author's Note:**

> this whole story may or may not get a plot eventually. For now the characters are unnamed.
> 
> And I hope the main character wasn't too bitchy or stand-offish.
> 
> She may or may not have a few mental issues but heck, even i don't know.
> 
> This is a bit of an experimental writing.


End file.
